A/N: Still poor; own nothing.

Chapter Two:

Oh hell no.

Hell fucking no.

The stranger was a mountain of muscle and he practically carried Akihito instead of dragging him. "Lemme go!" the photographer flailed. He dug his sneakers into the concrete, and pushed away from the van. Maybe it would have been smarter to push away from his assailant, but the very idea of getting into that van brought terrorized him.

"Quiet, brat!" the hulking behemoth snarled. Akihito felt his arm stretching and pulling in ways it was not supposed to. The man's fingers dug into the tender, pale flesh as a painful warning. "You don't want to make a scene! Trust me."

"Help! Akihito screamed. As if he would take advice from the creepy bozo kidnapping him. "Help me!" He had been pulled around the corner into a small alley. He was so close to the swirling populace. Surely someone could hear him. "HELP!"

"Shut him up, Havi!" a heavily accented voice echoed from the darkness of the van.

"Shut the fuck up, kid!" Havi backhanded him. Stars reeled around his head and he tasted the cooper blood that oozed from his split lip. Round eyes flitted to the street to see if anyone had heard him. Akihito stumbled as the man pulled him to the car. He could barely see, let alone fight off an attacker.

"Hey, you!"

"Let the boy go!"

Thank his lucky stars. Someone had heard him screaming. Akihito blinked, trying to stop his ears from ringing. Four guys––no, two if he squinted his eyes and focused on them––rushed into the alley. They were in normal clothes but black guns were drawn. Goons.

Havi swore and the photographer realized that he had been shouting to his comrade. Too bad he didn't speak Foreign.

"Get Takaba!" a man in a pink shirt and sunglasses shouted. He would be Goon One. Goon One fired two warning shots at Havi. The foreigner tucked Akihito's head into his armpit and started to sprint. Another guy jumped out of the black whole in the van. He had a Halloween mask on his face, Freddy Kruger, and a semiautomatic pistol in his hand. He fired right back at Goon One.

He could not see a damn thing once Havi buried his head in the sweaty pit, but Akihito knew that the van had to be close. Goon Two was running up behind them, his footfalls heavy on the pavement. He had to dodge bullets, though, so Akihito could not depend on him. He would have to break Havi's hold himself.

Havin was muttering in that foreign language again, and literally lifted the photographer by his arm. There was a loud pop and his vision swan. His scream was muffled by Havi's armpit, and his mind told him to surrender to the darkness. Oblivion would numb the pain.

But that mean he would end up in the van, and that was the last place he wanted to be.

"Takaba-san!" Goon Two must have heard the sickening pop of his shoulder dislocating.

His arm was useless, and his kicks did not even make Havi stumble. So Aki used his only weapon: he sunk his teeth backed by fifty-nine kilograms into the fleshy underarm. The kidnapper howled and dropped Akihito.

The photographer landed on his butt. The force jarred his overstretched body, and the nerve splitting pain turned his vision white.

"Oh shit!" Havi's partner swore, but Akihito barely heard it over someone's screams.

"Havi! Axel!"

Footsteps and gunshots were all around him, yet he felt the vibrations when something heavy hit the concrete. The gunshots and screams muffled the sounds of the city, but he could only make out the screams. Thankfully, the pressure on his shoulder anchored him to consciousness. Man, he must have bitten Havi hard for him to be carrying on like that.

"Takaba!" Goon two was calling his name. "Takaba!"

Akihito forced his eyes open and immediately focused on Goon Two. He was wearing a Sponge Bob shirt that Asami would sure have called tacky, but it ensured that Akihito would not spare him a second glance under normal circumstances. The screaming stopped. Holy cow, that had been him the entire time.

"Wha…" he gasped out.

The white van had sped away, but made out the prone bodies of Havi and Axel. They weren't moving.

"Takaba-san, we need to get you to a hospital," Goon Two said softly. "Rikotu, call Asami-sama," he ordered Goon One as he helped Akihito stand.

The photographer stumbled as he stood, his legs shaky from the agonizing pain. He hurt so much that it made him nauseous. Akihito grabbed his subluxed shoulder reflexively, to steady himself. The world spun, and he fell face forward.

***Sunshine***

He paced back and forth as they waited for the video to load. Asami Ryuichi was a patient man with an iron fist, but the mere thought of Al Madani made his rage burn. If he closed his eyes, he could imagine how it would feel to have his soft neck quivered under his fingers as he squeezed the bastard's life out.

Strangulation always brought back fond memories for the crime lord. Before Akihito, he would asphyxiate his partners to relieve the thrill of Kokoro's death. Watching the life leave her blue eyes always made him cum.

"Sixty-seconds," Kirishima reported.

The three men were tense. They gathered in Asami's office, huddled on the couches as they stared at the flat screen. Kirishima had programmed it to reflect was what on the laptop screen. They waited for visual confirmation that Mahdi Al Madani was moving through Serbia.

Any moment now.

Suoh's hand was clenched around his phone. He would send the 'Go' signal to his extraction team the moment they knew it was him. Sausage shaped fingers nearly cramped from the duress, his tendons coiled as tightly as springs to hold his finger just above the send button.

Any moment.

The TV dinged when the video upload was complete. Kirishima wasted no time pressing play. Asami's cigarette fell from his mouth as they watched a group of five men huddle together. They kept their faces down, away from the camera. This was obviously not their first time trying to move undetected, and they had good intel if they could keep their faces away from every camera in the room. There were five different views on the screen, each showing the back and shoulders a different man. There was not even a reflection to showcase a face. He had to admit that he was begrudgingly impressed.

"All men," Suoh noted needlessly. They searched for Al Madani with one eye and a woman with the other. "She isn't there."

"It could be a disguise," argued Kirishima, though he agreed with his partner. They had to be open to all possibilities. Assumptions made you careless, and carelessness left you vulnerable. He slowed the playback. "We've used them when moving delicate cargo."

"No," Asami agreed with Suoh as well. "They're all too tall and broad. She isn't there."

Which was strange. Dread coiled in his stomach that they had missed her somehow. It was unusual for Al Madani to move alone, but the possibility that they separated to avoid detection curdled his blood. Unless they had truly separated, and Asami was uninformed.

One by one, the men moved through the check point. The man who Ajdin had flagged as Mahdi Al Madani was the fourth through. He was middle aged, with salt and pepper hair. He was clean shaven and had a straight nose. The teller asked him the standard questions before scanning and then stamping his passport. It clearly read Mahdi Al Madani.

"Dammit!" Asami slammed his hand on the glass table. It rattled, knocking over his brandy sniffer. No one moved to clean the mess.

"No go!" Suoh was shouting into his phone. "Repeat, abort mission! Abort!"

It wasn't him.

"False positive," Kirishima sent a message to Ajdin, so he could update the system. Al Madani had played this card before, sending them on wild goose chases. New software had been developed that detected counterfeit papers, making it increasingly harder for him to send decoys. They were tightening the noose around his neck. It was only a matter of time.

"Find him!" Asami roared. Grabbing his empty glass, he threw it at the wall. It shattered into crystalline pieces that glittered in the sun. "Check London! The Emirates! Find him and bring him to me!"

"I'll deploy the team," Suoh was on his phone again. "They can pick up the imposter and interrogate him off the record before he makes it to the UAE. He will know where Al Madani is."

"Do it!" Asami barked. "And make sure Interpool flags His––"

"Asami-sama!" Suoh interrupted. He had not even made the call to the extraction team telling them the mission was back on. "An unknown party attempt to kidnap Takaba."

The crime lord's eyebrows rose up into his hairline. It was the day for surprises. His two best men stood, awaiting his orders. They could see Dante's inferno reflect in his golden eyes, and stiffened their backs. It was about to get ugly; Asami Ryuichi was furious.

"Do we have him?" Asami slipped into his suit jacket so quickly he thought he might have split a seam.

"Yes. Rikotu and Yamada are taking him to the hospital now." Suoh opened the office door. His receptionist had been humming to herself as she filed his completed itinerary. She jumped as he stormed past her.

"Kirishima, stay here and work on Al Madani. Call me if you find anything," he ordered.

"Yes, Asami-sama. And I'll have Iseri-san clear your schedule," his secretary motioned to his receptionist. Another cog in his criminal and legitimate business operations that he could not live without.

"Good. Suoh, what the hell happened?" Asami hit the down button on his private elevator so hard the plastic cracked.

"Two assailants came from an unmarked van and attempted to take Takaba. Our men managed to intervene. Yamada retrieved Takaba, while Rikotu opened fire, wounding one and killing the other. A third gunman killed the injured attacker rather than have us apprehend him," Suoh rapidly fired off.

When the doors chimed open, he hit the automatic start on the BMW. Asami opened his own door, preferring to get to the hospital as quickly as possible. "Where are the bodies?"

"In our custody. Keio University Hospital tagged them as John Does," Suoh sped out of the parking lot.

Asami took a quick drag off his cigarette. "Send their prints and DNA to Kuroda," he snapped at Nakamura, the guard sitting beside Suoh. When Kirishima or Suoh could not be with him, Nakamura stood in. He was capable, but not one of Asami's personal favorites. The crime lord's mouth was twisted gruesomely, so the goon scampered to comply. He could find out who had attempted to steal his little lover, and Asami would eat his cheeks for breakfast.

***Sunshine***

Luckily, Iseri had already cleared his schedule for the day. She was aware of his manhunt for Al Madani, and correctly knew that he would want to track his sudden trip across Europe. Nothing had been more important than bringing the nudnik to Japan to answer for his crimes, but then he had to rush to the hospital. Akihito was more important.

Yamada and Rikotu had kept vigil until he arrived. "Status report," Asami demanded crisply.

"Takaba-san had a split lip and a dislocated shoulder. The doctor gave him a mild sedative so that it could be reset easier. He is still conscious, but is easily influenceable." Rikotu reported.

"Where is he now?"

"In his room. He has been discharged, but we thought it best to keep him isolated until you arrived." The guards' initiative was surprising but not unwelcome. Most would not shit if he did not give the order to.

"Nakamura, get the car," he ordered. "Suoh, book a room until we can move to the safe house."

The condo had been compromised if the attack happened just after Akihito had left it. They had been waiting for him. His enemies knew where he lived, and could target Akihito at any time. Asami often left him unsupervised at the photographer's request. That would have to change.

"Akihito," he opened the door to the private room. His boy was lying supine on the metal bed, fully clothed. His shoulder was in a blue sling, which was tied to his torso.

"Sammmmmiiiiiii," his kitten rolled his head tot he side. "I can'h seew ewe." It sounded like he was chewing on cotton balls.

"I'm right here, kid," the crime lord said with surprising tenderness. He slid his hand behind Akihito's shoulders and slowly helped him sit up. Hazel eyes lit up like the sun after dawn, and a white grin split his face. A finger playfully poked at his chest. Asami winced as Akihito's mouth curled in pain from the movement. The loopy photographer obviously forgot that he had injured his shoulder. The medication helped numb him, but did not kill the pain entirely.

"Can you walk?" Asami watched Akihito haphazardly swing his legs over the side of the bed.

"You betcha," the photographer looked so pleased with himself when his feet found the floor. "Legs go round and round, like a school bus wheels." He sang the jumbled up song off key.

"Asami-sama," a doctor in a white coat bowed as he walked in.

"What is his prognosis?" Asami tried to keep his voice even, to hide his exasperation. The drugged up photographer was giggling at nothing as his head swayed back and forth. The anesthesia kept his muscles lax, so he could barely keep his neck straight.

"A dislocated shoulder can take up to sixteen weeks to heal. He will have to wear the sling for the first several weeks. After that, we can adjust it based on how quickly he is healing. He has been given a pain prescription to help him cope, but it will make him light headed. He cannot make any important decisions or drive after taking a pill."

"Akihito, stop." Asami caught the photographer's hands, which were clapping at thin air. It was as if he saw imaginary bubbles that he felt compelled to pop. "What about home care?"

The doctor chuckled. "He needs to give the shoulder some time to heal. It will be tender for a while. No heavy lifting. Other than that, he can go about his normal life."

That was good. The ramifications could have been much worse. The kid had always been a fast healer, and Asami was confident that he would bounce back quickly. "If you have any questions, feel free to call the hospital or talk to your primary care physician. A dislocated shoulder is a fairly tame injury, so they can answer any questions for you," the doctor continued on.

"Nothing was broken?" he clarified. He had to be sure.

"Nope. The force of the impact only dislocated his shoulder. Shattered joints are not uncommon for falls, especially down the stairs. Takaba-san was incredibly lucky."

So that was the cover story. He had not thought to inquire about it, but assumed that his competent men would take care of it. And he was right.

"A lucky fucky ducky," Akihito chirped.

The doctor graciously smiled. "He is free to go. Have a nice day," and he quickly withdrew to leave the crime lord to deal with the inebriated photographer.

"Can you walk?" Asami pulled him to his feet.

Akihito immediately slumped forward. His cheek was smashed against Asami's chest and when he shook his head, it mimicked the way he would nuzzle him after sex. "Yuupp," he slurred. "My foots work. Kness up. Fet go forward."

"Akihito," Asami tried to steady him without pressing on his injured shoulder. "I need you to focus."

"So sweepy," Akihito kissed the place just above his heart. "Whaddid the asshowe give me that makes my face feew tingwy?" Taking his good hand, he slapped his cheek lightly and then grinned when he felt nothing. Asami had to grab his hand before he could hit himself harder.

Asami swore. "Yamada! Get a wheel chair!"

"Yes sir," the dutiful man trotted off to the nurse's station.

"I can wawk, Asami!" Akihito pushed away from the yakuza with his good arm. He swayed for a moment, but his feet held steady beneath him. "You hafta show me the way out, though. It'z wike a maze in here!" He laughed loudly at his own joke.

And then toppled backwards, butt first onto the bed.

"Hold still, kid." Asami wrapped an arm around his waist and pulled Akihito back up with a sigh. "You definitely need the wheelchair."

Yamada strolled in, pushing a wheelchair. Akihito let Asami deposit him in it without a fuss. He seemed more interested in turning his arm into a dolphin, having it crest above and below the imaginary waves as the body guard pushed him down the hallway. Occasionally, he would make what Asami could only assume was a porpoise noise and then he would chuckle. Suoh said nothing, but Asami saw the mirth twitching at the corners of his lips. If it had not been such a piss poor day, he would have found his lover's antics extremely amusing.

It was not until they were settled into the Hibiya suite at the Peninsula Tokyo and he had tucked Akihito into bed that he received the call from Kirishima. Suoh and Nakamura remained in the drawing room, a laptop open so that he could read over the reports. So far, nothing was known about the attempted kidnappers, but both Yamada and Rikotu both reported the incident to Suoh with military thoroughness. The DNA and prints had turned up no leads, but he was still hopeful.

"Asami-sama," Kirishima said after he picked up on the second ring. "We found Al Madani. He is still in London, and has no flights scheduled to leave. The decoy must have been to test our response."

"Do you have visual confirmation?" he demanded. Al Madani was smart, and Asami felt that this was more than a test of their response. That was not his M.O. He wanted them watching the obvious means of travel, always on their toes, so he could sneak under the radar. "Or is this another decoy?"

But Asami had no idea where Abbas Al Madani's nephew would go. Abu Dhabi was the most likely place because that was where the family lived. The Al Madani's ran their operations out of Dubai, so it was very possible that he would head there as well. Or he could be going to America, for all they knew. Asami learned long ago that everyone was deceptive. What he expected Al Madani to do would be the last thing he actually did.

"Yes. Our man sent a video of him. He was at the West End. Sir Ian McKellen was performing," Kirishima reported.

She never missed a performance. Not since the Lord of the Rings.

"Was he alone?" He asked the question before he had even realized that he had thought it. It hung heavy in the air, and Asami held his breath until Kirishima answered.

"No."

"Flag both of their passports. They always travel together," he ordered. "I want him both in Japan by the end of the week." Asami ended the call. Suoh said nothing, but he oozed skepticism. Perhaps he was not in the right mind to make such demands: Al Madani had slipped through his fingers and Akihito was nearly abducted and then injured. He always got what he wanted, though, and right now, Asami wanted Al Madani's head on a platter. He would deal with the fallout afterwards.

***Sunshine***

"Come on, sweetheart," she cooed. Blowing kisses at Asimov, she tossed another treat into the big carrier. "Come on Assie."

"You know, you probably should not call him that," Mahdi said from the doorway. Dropping his keys on the counter, he left the luggage rack by the door. "The car is ready."

"Everybody I know gets a nickname," she pouted. The beautiful dog sat on its haunches, just out reach of her fingertips and she was really too lazy to try to move. His bubblegum tongue hung sloppily out of his mouth as he panted in happiness, his tail wagging quickly on the wooden floor. "Besides, Asimov is a mouthful."

"You named him," reminded Mahdi with a chuckle.

"Well, I was fourteen and stupid. I thought that The Illustrated Man was the coolest thing to ever hit bookshelves," she quipped. Snapping her fingers, she motioned to the treat laying in on the plushy dog bed. "Go get baby!"

"I know," he scratched behind Asimov's floppy ears. "You've told me a hundred times."

"He is my baby, and I like to talk about him," she looked up at Mahdi through long lashes. "I really wish he would be a good doggie like his sister. She is also so easy to crate."

"Because she weighs eight pounds and you can lift her." They both looked at Ruger who was passed out in her mini doggie carrier. "She's also stupid,"

True, Ruger was a bit of a dumb blonde. She would eat anything, even cheese wrapped around a sleeping pill. She always gave the dogs something vet prescribed so they would sleep on the plane and not be scared. They went wherever she did.

"Come on, boy." Grabbing Asimov by his blue collar, Mahdi led him into the cage. "I still don't see why we are taking the dogs to Japan."

"I don't know how long we will be, and I am not taking them to a kennel," she latched the cage. Mahdi nodded to a suited goon, and two of them lifted the cages onto the luggage cart. It was out of the question to have someone housesit, even a trusted employee. There were too many things hidden in the nooks and crannies that could condemn either one of them.

"You are such a softie," Mahdi wrapped an arm around her shoulders and pulled her tight against him. He pressed a kiss to the side of her head.

"But you love me," she simpered. He grabbed her Louis Vuitton bag and followed her out the door. He loved watched her tight ass bounce in the obscenely tight leather pants.

"I really do," he agreed.

A/N:

The cheek this is an homage to Hannibal Lecter, aka Hannibal the Cannibal. He is a literary bad ass and totally creepy. I had to put a little bit of him into Asami!